


Home and Dry

by The Hag (hagsrus)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hagsrus/pseuds/The%20Hag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Tea and Swiss Roll Weekly Obbo Challenge #56(A): Rain and Bored</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home and Dry

Doyle was bored. He couldn't settle his mind to anything.

On standby - he wasn't supposed to leave his flat. That ruled out nipping down to the local, or even to the garage for a go at the bike.

The book by a favourite author he'd been saving as a treat had proved disappointing and he'd set it aside.

He could have been getting on with the homework for the new series of art classes he'd started. Pencil drawing of a flower. Only he'd forgotten to acquire a flower. He didn't remember seeing anything in the scrubby bit of garden attached to the ground floor flat he'd moved into a couple of weeks ago, even if it hadn't been pissing down rain. His attempts to draw a rose and a daisy from memory had been cast aside in disgust.

Three files he was supposed to be reading - better get on with those.

The rain gusted against the window as he settled himself on the sofa. At least he was warm and dry. His mind kicked into gear as he started to scan the pages, storing information, making notes of possible connections. Better than being stuck out in the car on some tedious obbo. Better than traipsing round after a diplomat's capricious wife and kids who had taken a fancy to Bodie after a minding job last year, to whose whims Cowley had resignedly agreed to pander for a three-day visit in the interests of maintaining some precarious political balance.

One day over. Two to go. And probably he'd be packed off on a job by the time Bodie was released.

The doorbell rang. Probably the summons now, he thought sourly, already regretting his lack of appreciation for the non-eventful as he heaved himself off the sofa to answer it.

"Don't tell me," he greeted the dripping figure on the step, unable to suppress his jubilant grin. "The forsaken merman."

"Yeah yeah. Let me get in for christ's sake." Bodie pushed past him, grumbling about up and down bloody Oxford Street and then nowhere to park for miles round this godforsaken area, and pulled off his sodden jacket. "Got a towel handy?"

"Towel's not going to do it, sunshine." And seeing him shiver: "Go and have a shower and get warmed up."

"Anything to eat?" Bodie groped for something in his shoulder holster.

"You don't have to get it at gunpoint," Doyle teased.

"Here." Bodie produced a red rose, considerably worse for wear. "Present from a young lady. Thought you could draw it for your class if you didn't already get something."

"What young lady?"

"The youngest daughter. Seems to have a crush on me. What's there to eat?"

"Go and get dry and I'll make some sandwiches. Did they let you off for the night?"

"Thank god." Bodie started up the spiral stairs. "Till tomorrow noon."

Doyle contemplated the crumpled rose for a moment and set it carefully aside. It would do. More interesting than something fresh in bloom.

A red rose. Well...

He found himself whistling as he assembled a mound of cheese sandwiches and brewed tea. Bodie's reappearance clad in borrowed dressing gown completed his return to felicity.

Bodie caught him into a quick embrace, all solid warmth beneath the dressing gown, then started to devour cheese and Branston pickle with a sigh of satisfaction.

Doyle pondered ruefully for a moment how much his happiness had come to be bound up with this man, then murmured an inward "Thanks" to whatever fate had brought it about, and rescued a sandwich for his own delectation.

Bored? Not likely!


End file.
